


The Creature With the Atom Brain

by necrosweater



Series: Human Troubles, Modern Times [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Exploring the brave new world, Megaton, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2020-10-21 10:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20691743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/necrosweater/pseuds/necrosweater
Summary: After leaving the vault, Lone Wanderer Babs heads to Megaton. The experience is eye opening in more ways than one.





	1. Gateway

The world outside is… strange. The colors are so different from the cold sterility of the vault, though there is a dull grey quality to the rocks that feels familiar, in an alien sense. The air smells different, pungent, almost. After breathing the constantly recycled air of the vault for the past 19 years, the change is drastic, and for a second Babs thinks the change is a complication from her damaged windpipe. 

She falls back against the rough wall of the cave that’s held her whole world up to this point and huffs a shuddering laugh, running her hand up her face, and pulling at her hair. She needs to figure out what to do before she gets attacked by something out here. Amata had said there was a town nearby. Right. She needs to find that. She bends down to pick up her pack, as well as the bag she’d gotten from Amata. The meager supplies she had with her would not last long. 

The night air carries a chill that the vault had never had, and she supposes it’s going to take a while before she gets used to not being in a regulated temperature. The thin material of the vault suit isn’t doing much to keep out the faint breeze blowing through the ruins, and she shivers. She picks through her pack with a sort of detached focus, looking for something to wrap around her shoulders; her mouth quirks up in a grin when she feels leather. 

Pulling on the jacket feels odd, almost like a betrayal to all the years Butch— and what the_fuck_ was that,_”You’re the best friend I ever had, _thank you,_ thank you!”_—and his gang had tormented Amata, but she feels a sick sense of enjoyment at the same time. Deep in her heart she knows her friend was right, that there was no way she could leave the vault in the chaos James had caused, but the fresh wound of abandonment stings too much for her to care— much. The “enemy” jacket is like a rebellious bandage over that wound; she hopes it would hurt, if Amata saw her wearing it. It’s not _fair_. Being forced out of the vault by herself… it feels almost like a death sentence, a punishment for—

The kiss. 

Her hand drifts up to her lips, and she traces them lightly with a finger, eyes closed. She tries to remember how she had felt in that moment, before she’d realized what she was doing, and pulled away. In that split second, all had been right in the world, and she bites back a sob as the realization that she’s probably never going to get that feeling again. Her world has been turned upside down in the most violent of ways. 

Suddenly being so close to the vault is painful, and the only thought in her head is that she has to get away, has to distract herself with something or she thinks she’ll implode.

She has to find her dad.

Babs picks her way down the hill to a crumbling road, warily, with her head on a swivel. She jumps a bit at the sound of a crushed up tin can knocking against a toppled over shopping cart, and after a second of heart racing panic picks up the cans and stuffs them in her pack. You never know what might be worth money out here. She eventually catches a glimpse of what looks like it might be a town a little way down the hill, but as she gets closer she sees absolutely no movement except for a flying robot playing some tinny music and drifting around the ruins. Babs isn’t sure if it’s hostile, so she decides its best to avoid it altogether, and creeps past quickly, thankful to the years of sneaking out to see Amata after curfew for making her at least somewhat sneaky.

A large piece of metal next to the weathered asphalt has the word MEGATON scrawled on it, with an arrow pointing up the road, so she follows that, heart pounding heavily. A few steps later she finds what she thinks is a food dispenser for a second, before realizing that firstly, there’s probably not any sort of food dispensers found outside a vault, and secondly, she probably wouldn’t trust anything she’d get out of it, anyway. Curiously, it appears to be a vending machine for something called Nuka-Cola, and it’s got two bottles left undisturbed inside. For a second she thinks maybe there’s a reason they’re still there— maybe they belong to someone? Maybe they’re really really gross?— but she grabs them out of desperation, stuffing them into her quickly filling bag of possible wares, and follows the signs leading to the giant structure that must be Megaton.

Cautiously approaching, Babs is startled by a man hiding out in the rocks near what seems to be the town entrance, who asks her for water. “None of that dirty stuff, I’ve been drinking that for too long and it makes you sick.” Babs nods at him, eyes wide. “They won’t give it to you if you aren’t a resident,” he adds, hopefully.

She doesn’t give him any water.

Closer to the entrance, a large robot toddles around, occasionally blurting out a few stilted phrases such as, “Welcome to Megaton, partner,” and “friendliest town in the Capitol” in a jerky electronic voice. 

Babs skirts around the robot quietly. It’s not that she’s afraid of it, really. It seems to be pretty benevolent, but recent events in her life have given her a certain distaste for interaction with _anyone_ for the time being, human and robot alike. Slinking past it, she finds a large gate, and pries it open just enough to get in.

“Another newcomer?” The voice is cordial, almost neighborly, which doesn’t stop her from pressing her back to the gate in shock at being addressed immediately after entering the town.   
“Welcome to Megaton, friendliest town in the Capitol Wastes.” The man certainly _looks_ friendly, despite the rifle in his hands. “Name’s Lucas Simms, town sheriff. And mayor too, when the need arises.”

Babs eyes the badge on his chest, along with the man’s distinct hat. Some sort of cowboy? He’s still talking away, though she’d zoned out too much to pick up anything he’d said. Her attention is dragged painfully back when she hears him mutter something about there being an active bomb in the middle of the town.

“_Bomb?_” Forcing the word out of her bruised throat hurts, but a live weapon in the middle of the only (somewhat) safe place she’s found in the Waste is something she can’t just ignore. 

“Oh good, you can talk. For a while I was worried you were some sort of crazy. Lord knows we’ve got enough of that in town.” Lucas smiles at her, a warmth he hadn’t had before showing through. “Yeah, there’s a live atom bomb in the crater at the center of town. It’s where Megaton got its name. Supposedly it’s not dangerous, but… I know I’d feel a lot better knowing it wasn’t going to suddenly blow us all to kingdom come. From the look on your face, I’d wager you feel the same.” 

Babs rubs at her neck, worriedly. “I-uh… I could look at it for you, if you’d like?” The words feel like glass fighting their way up her throat.

The mayor’s eyebrows raise slightly under his hat. “You got the know-how for something like that?” Babs shrugs, noncommittal. “Well, as long as you’re not planning to rig it to blow, or something like that, letting you look can’t hurt. Don’t do anything out of your skill range, mind you. I’d be happier with a live bomb than a dead town.” Babs doesn’t say anything, just stares in the direction he’d been gesturing. “Supposing you give it a shot, I could probably round up something to be some sort of reward, too. Be doing the town a great service.”

Babs holds out her hand, solemnly. “I’ll do my best, sir,” her voice sounds awful, but Lucas smiles, accepting her handshake.

“Sir, yeah? Respectful. You must be from the vault. If you need a place to stay, check with Nova up at Moriarty’s to see if she’s got an open room. Just avoid the man himself, if you can. He’s a real piece of work, that one. Can’t trust him, you hear?” She nods, back to wide eyes and silence. “And kid? Try not to let the folks from the Church see you disarming the bomb? They worship it like some sort of god. It wouldn’t do to get them all up in arms.” He tips his hat, and continues off on his rounds, leaving Babs to her thoughts.


	2. Creature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Babs makes a discovery

Babs starts with the bomb, as is only logical. After all, There’s absolutely no fucking way she’s going to be able to sleep knowing that she’s a walking distance away from one of the relics that ended the freaking _world_, and worse, the thing is _live_. It could _go off_ and no one in the town seems to care. There’s actually a man standing in the water surrounding it, which is _glowing_, mind you. Babs isn’t sure how he hasn’t grown a second head. As is, he seems happy enough to stand in his little puddle of radioactivity, spouting off his gospel of Atom— which Babs had confirmed hoarsely was _not_ in fact spelled Adam— for the foreseeable future, presumably until he becomes a victim of his own god’s wrath. 

Heeding the advice of the mayor, she’s decided to try a stealthy approach. Babs gets as close to the bomb as she can before her Pip-Boy starts ticking ominously and she flinches back. She has to brace herself for a second before she gets close enough to look for the panel she knows is home to the wires she needs to disarm the explosive properties of the bomb. Happily, she’d been able to study up on her world-ending-device anatomy after finding a book on pre-war explosives in the depths of the classroom’s bookshelves. It had served as a great distraction from listening to the Almodovars arguing over the most minuscule of conflicts while waiting from the hallway for them to finish so she could hang out with Amata. She’d had… a substantial amount of time to read. 

Once she’s located the panel, she steels herself, and gets down to work. A heart-pounding several minutes later, Babs leans back to wipe the sweat from her brow, doing a little victory dance in celebration.

“Hey,” comes a raspy voice from somewhere startlingly close. “Someone finally did it! Great job, smoothskin.” 

Babs yelps in surprise and falls straight into the puddle at the base of the bomb, Geiger counter pounding out a staccato that rivals the speed of her heart. “Wh-who said that,” she splutters, flailing around like a fly drowning in an open glass of water, except this glass is full of radiation. She looks around frantically, finally spotting what appears to be a floating head bobbing against the bomb, staring at her with hazy eyes. 

“Hi,” the floating head says, in a voice like sandpaper. “You might want to get out of the water, kid. Rads ain’t as good for your complexion as they are for mine.”

Babs finally gets herself to the edge of the puddle, scrabbling her way out of the water and running to find the mayor. Someone’s got to let him know he’s got a _talking, rotting head_ floating in the water in the middle of town. Plus, she’d like to collect on this reward for a job well done. She’d done a great job, he could even ask the head. 

Babs ran in a panic up the ramshackle stairs leading to the gate she’d come through, knocking into a man along the way, who gripes at her in irritation. “Hey, watch where you’re g—”

“Simms,” she grinds out, cursing Hannon and his goddamned billy club. She’d never been very open with her words before leaving the vault, but at least then she’d been able to get them out without an issue. “Where? Trying to find Simms.”

The man points vaguely up the hill to a house near the door, muttering something under his breath. Babs races her way up the hill, pounding an agitated beat on the door. The door swings open to reveal the mayor, pulling on his hat and wiping the sleep from his eyes with a yawn. “Better not be those damned raiders again— oh, vault-dweller, it’s you. Is the bomb about to explode? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Head, floating. Floating head in the bomb!”

“Floating, what are you talking about?” The man looks at her panicked face in confusion, before realization dawned in his eyes. “Oh, you must have met Gob. Nothing to worry about, missy, I’ll just have to tell Colin to keep a closer eye on his help. Can’t have the boy scaring visitors away; not like there’s a lot of tourism in the Wastes to begin with. I’ll have a talk with him in the morning.” Simms yawns again, covering his mouth. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” 

And he closes his door in her face. 

Babs breathes out, confused. This creature must float in the bomb’s water often, for the mayor to have such a lackluster reaction. 

The next order on her to-do list was to find somewhere to sleep. Simms had said to check Moriarty’s, which she assumed was under the big sign proclaiming “Moriarty’s Saloon” on the other side of the hill. She suddenly feels very tired, her body heavier than should be physically possible. How did people outside the vault _walk_ so much? They did this kind of thing _every day_? The thought makes Babs and her exhausted limbs want to cry. 

Somewhere in her rational brain she brings back a technique Jonas (oh, Jonas) had taught her to combat her very strong sense of procrastination. _5...4...3...2...1_. She starts walking.

\- - -

When she finally reaches the door to Moriarty’s Saloon, Babs can hardly hold herself up. While she’d spent her life climbing the occasional stairway, the vertical nature of the town has proven a lot more difficult to adapt to than she’d expected. Not only was the entire place built on a crater’s slope, but between every single stupid building were ramshackle pathways at a multitude of _stupid_ angles. On top of that, being that the majority of the town wasn’t on what would be considered ground floor, she couldn’t even hop fences to get to where she needed to go faster. Having to take tunnels and bridges that took her further from her destination, while having the door in her line of sight was maddening.

Heaving out a breath from her painfully raw throat, she pushes the door open, shuffling quickly inside. At the sound of the door falling closed, a lady with a tired face and short messy hair looks over her shoulder from where she’s perched at the counter.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” the woman croons, her voice a little rusty sounding, but in a pleasant way. Babs gets the feeling she smokes. A lot. “I’m afraid the bar’s closed, so I hope you’re not particularly thirsty. If you’re looking for a room, I’m happy to help.” She strikes a smile, which looks a little dampened. “Name’s Nova. What’s yours, kid?”

Babs feels her eyes glazing a bit, feeling overwhelmed by this new world she’s been thrown into. After a moment, she manages to drag herself closer to the woman and grind out “Babs” and “room, please.” The woman— Nova— seems pleased by her politeness. 

“Well, rooms are 120 caps a night,” Babs feels her face fall, “and if Colin weren't breathing down my neck to get every bit he can get his hands on, I’d give you a discount for manners. Don’t see much of that anymore.” Nova’s lips quirk down at the corners, and she leans against the counter, tilting her head. “What’s wrong, sugar? Don’t be disappointed, Colin won’t give a discount to anyone, oh, don’t cry, sweet!” She settles a hand on Babs’ shoulder, unsure of the best way to comfort her, taking a closer look at the blue jumpsuit under Butch’s jacket. “Oh, I shoulda known, you’re one of those vault folk, huh? I’m guessing you don’t have any caps— what we use for money out here.” 

Babs shakes her head, which is lowered, shrugging off both Nova’s hand and her backpack. “Don’t have any caps, but—“ she clears her throat painfully. “I picked up some things before I left the vault?” She empties out her backpack on the countertop, suddenly feeling less horrible about looting the chaos of the vault on her way out. She’d managed to pick up a few odds and ends, some tools she’d found in the hallway, and even the couple bottles of vodka and whiskey she’d snatched from the DeLoria’s apartment. She hadn’t thought Ellen needed any more alcohol for a while, and figured if she was going to be tossed from the life she’d known she might want to numb the world for a while. After a moment’s thought, she digs through the second pack she’d gotten from Amata, where she’d stashed the bottles of Nuka Cola from the vending machine. 

Nova eyes the pile of surely useless trash on the bar top, and with a slight grin seems to decide it’s enough for a night’s stay. “Don’t tell Colin I gave you a deal, huh? Let’s get you somewhere to sleep, you look like you could use it.” 

Babs nods, numbly, and follows the woman up yet another flight of creaky stairs, where she shows her to a dingy room. 

“Probably nothin’ compared to your sweet vault digs, but it’s something, right?” Babs can’t even focus on what Nova’s saying, already setting her meager belongings down on the floor and stripping off Butch’s jacket to crawl in the bed, exhaustion overtaking her vault-grown manners. “Come down and see me in the morning, and we’ll see about finding you something to eat, and a way for you to get some more caps. Night, kiddo.” 

Babs is asleep before Nova’s closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha that was quite a delay between chapters huh

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Thanks for reading. Getting back into writing has been fun, and I’m hoping to continue my sadly neglected other stories along with writing more about Babs. I’m @necrosweater on Tumblr as well as here, so do with that what you will.


End file.
